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Inimilo ya Kuukhu yaba yiyaangisa,
abe yaayitsulamo kamaheemba,
buulo, ni mwooko. Ne shishafuurira
ilala buulayi mu byoosi yaba
kamatoore.
Abe yakhaba nga Kuukhu aaba ni
babetsukhulu baakali, ne mu
shimoonyo busa naamanya ndi ise
niye isi aafuura khuukana. Niye
aanaangatsaka mu ntsu yeewe
busheele, waamboolelakho
bimoonyo bye mukari. Ne
aaramisayo shimoonyo shitweela
sheesi aakhamboolelakho ta: eena
isi arobesela kamarofu.
Grandma’s garden was wonderful, full of sorghum, millet, and cassava.
But best of all were the bananas.
Although Grandma had many grandchildren, I secretly knew that I was her favourite. She invited me often to her house. She also told me little secrets.
But there was one secret she did not share with me: where she ripened bananas.
Shifukhu shitweela, nabona
kumuyayi, nga baakureere mu
muumu ibulafu khu ntsu ya Kuukhu.
Nga namureeba sheesi kumuyayi
kukhola, niye aantsilamo busa ari,
“Kuli kumuyayi kwase
namakaanga.”
Andulo e kumuyayi, aabawo kamaru
mafwiiti kari, keesi Kuukhu ekhala
ayuusayuusa.
Bubwayaayi bwamaamba
naamureeba ndi, “Kuukhu, kamaru
kano kaashi?”Niye aantsilamo busa
ari, “Kali kamaru kaase
namakaanga.”
One day I saw a big straw basket placed in the sun outside Grandma’s house. When I asked what it was for, the only answer I got was, “It’s my magic basket.”
Next to the basket, there were several banana leaves that Grandma turned from time to time. I was curious. “What are the leaves for, Grandma?” I asked. The only answer I got was, “They are my magic leaves.”
Ise shaantsikhoyesa naabi
khuubona Kuukhu, kamarofu,
kamaru ni kumuyayi. Ne Kuukhu ndi
wandumana wa maayi wase.
Nase naamuloma ndi, “Kuukhu
ndekhe imbone nga n’uuli
khuukhola…”
Kila Kuukhuwe amwiilamo ari,
“Mwaanawe, ukhaba umumiinyi ta,
khola nga niindi
khuukhulomela.”Indyo naatsya
butima.
It was so interesting watching Grandma, the bananas, the banana leaves and the big straw basket. But Grandma sent me off to my mother on an errand.
“Grandma, please, let me watch as you prepare…”
“Don’t be stubborn, child, do as you are told,” she insisted. I took off running.
Nga ni nakobola, nanyoola Kuukhu
nga wekhaale khu lwaanyi ne nga
mbaawo kumuyayi, namwe
kamarofu ta. Nase naamureeba ndi,
“Kuukhu, kumuyayi kuli waheena,
kamarofu koosi kali waheena,
naluundi waheena…?”
Ne sheesi Kuukhu aantsilamo
shonyene ari, “Bili mu shifwo shase
namakaanga.”
Shaakhalasa naabi.
When I returned, Grandma was sitting outside but with neither the basket nor the bananas.
“Grandma, where is the basket, where are all the bananas, and where…”
But the only answer I got was, “They are in my magic place.” It was so disappointing!
Lwanyuma lwe bifukhu bibili,
Kuukhu aanduma khuutsya
khumureerera kumusyeendo
kweewe, khukhwaama mu
shiseenge sheewe.
Khaangu nga indikuule lulwiitsi,
luulukhu lwe kamarofu
lwaantsakaanila. Mu shiseenge she
mukari nimwo mweesi Kuukhu aaba
waabisile kumuyayi namakaanga
kumuboofu, waakubiimbilila buulayi
busa ni ibulangiti ikhale. Ise
naabera ibulangiti naawunyila
luulukhu lulukhongelesa.
Two days later, Grandma sent me to fetch her walking stick from her bedroom.
As soon as I opened the door, I was welcomed by the strong smell of ripening bananas. In the inner room was grandma’s big magic straw basket. It was well hidden by an old blanket. I lifted it and sniffed that glorious smell.
Likono lya Kuukhu lyanendekulusa,
nga alaanga ari, “Uli khuukhola
shiina? Yuubakho undeerere
kumusyeendo.”
Nase naarura khaangu ni
kumusyeendo. Kuukhu wandeeba
ari, “Uli khuumuunamuunila
shiina?”
Shireebo sheewe shaakila
nakhebulila nga naba indi
khuumuunamuuna khulwe
khufuumbula shiifwo sha Kuukhu
sha namakaanga.
Grandma’s voice startled me when she called, “What are you doing? Hurry up and bring me the stick.”
I hurried out with her walking stick. “What are you smiling about?” Grandma asked.
Her question made me realise that I was still smiling at the discovery of her magic place.
Shifukhu shisheelakho, nga Kuukhu
eetsa khuukyeniyila maayi wase,
naatimaka mu ntsu yeewe
khuuyama khu marofu luundi.
Yabamwo litoore lye kamarofu
kakanuunukhiile ilala. Naasasulakho
litweela naalibisa mu shitweeya
shaase.
Lwanyuma lwe khuubiimba khu
muyayi luundi, naatsya inyuma we
ntsu naalilyaka khaangu. Lirofu ilyo
nilyo lilyafuurisakho khun’gaaha
khukhwaama nga ye ndyaatsaka
khu marofu.
The following day when grandma came to visit my mother, I rushed to her house to check the bananas once more.
There was a bunch of very ripe ones. I picked one and hid it in my dress. After covering the basket again, I went behind the house and quickly ate it. It was the sweetest banana I had ever tasted.
Shifukhu shishaloondakho nga
Kuukhu ali mu nimilo ibuumbi aaha
tsinyanyi, namolokha neepa mu
ntsu nekheenga khu marofu.
Aambi koosi kaaba kaarobile. Nga
sinyala nekhaliilikha khuuyila
shisasi she tsimuunga tsine ta.
Ne ni naba nga isoota khuutsya
imulyaango, naawulila kuukhu
akhololela ibulafu. Naanyalisa busa
khuubisa kamarofu mu shitweeya
shase, naakeenda naamubirakho.
The following day, when grandma was in the garden picking vegetables, I sneaked in and peered at the bananas.
Nearly all were ripe. I couldn’t help taking a bunch of four.
As I tiptoed towards the door, I heard grandma coughing outside. I just managed to hide the bananas under my dress and walked past her.
Shifukhu ndi shisheelakho shaba
she likaantso. Kuukhu eenyukha
tikhinyi. Busheele aayilatsaka
kamarofu ni mwooko khuukulisa
mwikaantso.
Sinatimilakho khuumukyenilakho
khu shifukhu isho ta. Ne nga abe
siinyala khuumutatayila imbuka
ndeeyi ta.
The following day was market day. Grandma woke up early. She always took ripe bananas and cassava to sell at the market.
I did not hurry to visit her that day. But I could not avoid her for long.
Lwanyumakho angoloobe khu
shifukhu sheene isho, nga maayi, ni
paapa banaanga. Ise namanya
lwashiina. Shiilo isho, nga ingona,
namanya ndi sindiilakho luundi
khukhwiiba ta, khukhwaama khu
kuukhu, khukhwaama khu basaali
baase, ni khufuurira ilala
khukhwaama khu muundu yeesi.
Later that evening I was called by my mother and father, and Grandma. I knew why.
That night as I lay down to sleep, I knew I could never steal again, not from grandma, not from my parents, and certainly not from anyone else.
